


madrugada.

by desm_nt



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Character Death, Guilt, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27767290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desm_nt/pseuds/desm_nt
Summary: the weight of guilt.
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas
Kudos: 2





	1. ⁰

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone prefers to read in Spanish (which is my native language), please go to the next page: https://www.wattpad.com/story/249469436-madrugada  
> In case you do not know the site, you do not need an account to read.
> 
> For your attention, thank you very much.

_For my uncle._

_I owe you an apology for running out at dawn and locking me in the other room, the one where I cried by the window when Grandma died._

_The guilt is coming over me like a disease that slowly takes over._

_There are no longer days when I can come home and tell you about my journey through a broken world, stay up late watching "Hey, Arnold!" while we laugh at the jokes the kids in other grades told me during recess._

_I think I still miss you._

_As much as I try to move on and convince myself that it wasn't my fault, the memory of your voice saying "Aren't you going to stay? runs through me._

_I wanted to stay, one last time before I left so I wouldn't fall down halfway through. I wanted to stay and count the stars next to you, to rock in the rocking chair outside, to run in the park or to make up oddities with everything we saw; but fate took away the only chance I had to be happy._

_After 7 years I still blame myself for leaving, and after 3 years I still blame myself for not saying goodbye to you and for only knowing how to lock myself in the bathroom to cry about your death. I hope I can see you again someday._

_I love you._


	2. ¹

_**madrugada.** _

_"quiero producir oscuridad_

_con mis propios ojos al cerrar_

_y evitar las sombras que se forman_

_debajo de mi cama y me toman"._

I've been wanting to let go of this for a long time, or rather, I needed to. I wanted to tear it out of my body and close this chapter of my life. We had each other, we loved each other, but my choices took you away.

The bed feels so cold and empty without your presence, I do everything to fall asleep but the feeling that something is missing is still latent. 

Deafening screams that try to find you in the darkness of the room. I look under the bed, in the closet, in the kitchen, in the living room; you are not there. You are not there anymore. I must understand and follow the course that awaits me with tired eyes and enthusiastic smile. I must let you go, just that. I can no longer hold on to your memory when it does me so much harm. 

_I am on the verge of collapse because of your absence._

I walk the streets of this utopian city where everyone gets what they want, is happy, is married, has children. Young boys fall in love under the shade of the trees, they kiss at the altar and I walk alone with my thoughts focused on you and nothing but you.

It is impossible for me not to relate to everything around me. I see you in the parents teaching their children to ride their bikes, in the children running with their friends, in the lovers afraid to hold each other's hands, in the fluffy clouds in the sky (because, although it is hard for you to believe, after you left I started to notice how beautiful the world is, and how we waste it when we have it). I see you in my dreams, like a vague memory that slowly fades away.

The girls visit from time to time, stay to talk and even offer to cook for a quiet dinner among old friends. But still, something is missing, someone is still missing. 

Your sister has offered quite a few times to give me a session as a psychologist, claiming that maybe I could use it: "I can do it alone", I have told her.

"It's okay to ask for help, you don't have to be ashamed. That's what we're here for: to support you". He answered me.

I constantly try to clarify my feelings and accept that you have left. However, your voice telling me that you loved me continues to haunt me, your skin so soft and your fingers running through my body. Your apple scent, everything hurts and feels so far away now.

I admit, I don't know how to go on. Each step hurts more than the last, each day becomes greyer and more monotonous if you're not in it.

_Save me, Dave; I'm begging you._

John stays in the hive one week a month, even two weeks depending on the situation. I talk to him regularly; he's subtle when it comes to talking. He listens to my sorrows, understands my tears and shares my pain. 

During a conversation in which I suddenly and abruptly woke him from his sleep, he reflected on all this time I have been suffering from the lack of your warmth.

« You cannot continue to reproach yourself for something that was not your fault, Karkat. After so many years it is time to end the cycle where you condemn yourself for his death, it is not healthy.

Let yourself be happy, I am sure he would have wanted that. »

His words resonated with me, like a bomb exploding inside me. Perhaps it was easier for everyone to finish that chapter, get up from the floor, wipe their tears and go out and rebuild their lives. Yet, I cannot do it. The guilt keeps dripping from my hands, spilling out like the blood gushing from your body. 

I still feel that need to run out and save you. I apologize to you in the early morning when the bursts of emotion come into my head and leave me sleepless. I can't go on knowing that you no longer do, and that's because of me.

I should have kept my anger to myself again, or even let you come with me; maybe that would have changed our destiny. You'd come home smiling again, I'd curl up next to you on movie night. We would be together, as we promised. 

I hate myself for hitting you, for calling you stupid, for saying "fuck you". I hate myself for all the bad decisions I've made over the years, but rest assured that I'll never hate myself for having loved you, no matter how much we've never said it to each other formally. It would be impossible to say that when it was you who gave me a new chance at happiness, in fact, I should even thank you in those letters I burn at the stake outside. I know you read them, or at least I try to convince myself of that.

At night I try to forget you a little so that I can sleep well, without having nightmares or having to deal with unstoppable crying, but everything I do has no effect. I always end up crying your memory and screaming your name in a desperate search to bring you back.

I feel so angry, furious because I could have done things differently. We were young, and we were cowards. 

If only I had gotten rid of the insecurity, and told you all that was waiting in my chest, those reddish feelings that were struggling to come out. He would not exist, Dave. There's nothing left to do.

I was never brave, even when it came to running to avoid your death. All the hard and apathetic facade I showed was just that: a cover. Now I just want to cry until my eyes fade, I want to cry until I get lost in the sea, drowning in my own tears.

I feel so guilty and pathetic, I had every intention of showing you my infinite love, but I ended up ruining everything. I was aware that we would not be eternal, someday I would lose you in the war against evil, or someday you would lose me because of illness. Our promises where we said we would protect ourselves against anything would possibly be short lived. There were also those promises behind closed doors where I swore to you in complete solitude eternal love.

Not one goodbye did I get the chance to say, you left as quickly as a sigh from me.

I regret so many things, so many that it is difficult for me to enumerate them. There was so much left to say, to do, to see. There was a hole left in the bed, which no one will ever be able to fill. A painful void in my heart, waiting for a miracle from those so pronounced. 

I miss contemplating your eyes; feeling the warmth of your body; your silly jokes that, despite what I said, made me laugh; hearing your voice producing strange sounds that you used to call "raps"; your company. 

This grief wears out my veins, the bottles of alcohol that I disowned so much have become my companions. From under the bed they seduce me and inevitably bring flashes of moments with you.

I close the curtains to sit and think on the floor, the great shining lights pierce the blackish fabrics. I want to break everything, tear my throat, my skin. I want to disappear and forget all this. I want to go back to my old way, to walk carefree and alone, without any inconvenience on top; and at the same time I want to stay in this misery where I veil your memory. Here I feel alive, sticking our photos on the walls, watching the movies you liked, hugging your clothes.

I love you and I will love you no matter that you are no longer here with me. It is so hard to get over this stage where everything is screaming out your name, but I will try to do it. 

_For you, I would give my whole life._

Thank you for the memories we created together.

_**I still love you,** _

_**I still miss you,** _

_**I still think of you.** _

Karkat V.


End file.
